Complex
by Lock Owl
Summary: A young Estel's apology is met with a complicated lesson. PG for some implications of darker things. Main characters: Elrond, Estel [Aragorn]


Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's Note: This story may seem a bit odd, but I had to write it. It is inspired by actual events.  
  
*****  
  
"Ada?" Estel stood, bleary-eyed, in the doorway, his hands dangling by his sides and his feet bare. He looked younger than his six years in his floppy pyjamas, one shoulder nearly bare because his shirt was so twisted and uneven.  
  
"Yes, Estel?" asked Elrond in an even voice. He knew, or suspected, what his son was going to say, but would not say it for him. Elrond would also not frighten Estel out of talking.  
  
"I. . .I'm sorry, Ada." A six-year-old has little to apologize for; in this case, the apology was for fighting with the Elven children after being told not to do so. Small as this may seem, Estel's world was rather limited. In his little sphere, this was a gigantic crime.  
  
"Come here, Estel," Elrond said. This is a talk the two should have had long ago, Elrond knows, but perhaps Estel will understand now. . .or should he wait? No options, really--Estel ran eagerly to his foster parent, and Elrond could not simply tell him good night. Instead Elrond lifted Estel into his lap and said, "While I am glad to hear that, Estel, I must ask you if you are sure you mean what you have said."  
  
"What do you mean?" Estel asked innocently, his grey-blue eyes wide and inquisitive.  
  
Elrond tried to put this gently. "Do you remember what I have told you before about lying?" he asks.  
  
"Never, ever to lie," Estel said as though this were a recitation, although "never, ever to lie" were not Elrond's exact words. The Elf's heart twisted as he thought of something Estel would have to learn for himself, of the day Estel would be forced to decided whether to hurt a loved one or break his word and tell a lie. But that day was not here come.  
  
"That's very good, Estel. Now, are you truly sorry?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Estel's face creased, and he thoughts about this for a moment. "Because. . .you're my Ada."  
  
"So I thought," Elrond replied with a nod. "Estel, this is one of the more complex lessons of life. I only hope you can understand it." Estel was not too old to refrain from smiling slightly upon hearing his name, even in common tongue. "You must not apologize to me for that reason, not ever."  
  
Estel was more than confused by this. "But Ada!" he protested.  
  
"No, Estel. You must apologize because you are sorry; otherwise, you would be lying. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes. . .but shouldn't I be sorry because you are my Ada, and so that means you are righter than me?"  
  
Elrond chose to ignore this grammatical lapse for a more important matter. "No, Estel. You are too young now to understand this, but age does not bring wisdom, not always, and it never brings perfection. I am still able to make mistakes. But, Estel, this is most important: you must never apologize to me, or believe yourself in the wrong, simply because I am your Ada. Do you understand?"  
  
"I'm not sure. . ."  
  
"Good," Elrond said. "Now, go on to bed. Pleasant dreams." And, kissing Estel on the head, Elrond placed his son on the floor. Estel raced tiredly away. Elrond could only hope he had done right, disliking the hypocrisy of it. "Oh, well. Soon enough he will be old enough decide such things for himself. Hopefully he will not take what I have said as an excuse for impudence."  
  
Even if Estel did so, Elrond would prefer it to ever hearing again that being someone's Ada made him automatically right. Even parents make mistakes, he knew well enough. Elrond was old, he would never deny that, and he had seen many things. Most importantly, he had seen the injuries done by such beliefs.  
  
"Being an Ada is difficult," he muttered to the fire. "Because no matter what, he will always forgive me. Just because I am his father. It is sickening, and yet. . .yet it is unchangeable, is it not? Such terrible things can come of believing that someone is always right, of such blindness. Yet every sword has two edges. . .  
  
"What ever I do he forgive me, no matter how much I hurt him. But this I promise you, Estel: so long as it is in my power, I will not allow such a fate to befall you."  
  
*****  
  
TBC? (anyone want me to continue this one?) 


End file.
